


Tack För Igår (Thanks for Yesterday)

by CeridwenofWales



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gentle Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 00:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11452293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeridwenofWales/pseuds/CeridwenofWales
Summary: Summary: Ivar has a deal with a woman. Feelings are not allowed, only fun. For how long?





	Tack För Igår (Thanks for Yesterday)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ivartheboneme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivartheboneme/gifts).



> This work is based on a prompt @wanderingsorceress27 sent me on Tumblr. Thanks, dear. 
> 
> I mixed some of our Swedish lessons from @ivartheboneme and a little of Icelandic sentences.

“Tack för igår!”, a husky voice you loved to hear in the morning.

 

Your heart skips a beat, memories of what you did the night before. Even better, the things the man lying on your bed did to you. 

 

You knew you shouldn’t have had that last drink, but Ivar was so insistent that you should try another horn of mead. The drink as sweet as the whispered words from his lips.

 

“Allow me to warm your bed tonight?”, he was pleading. His warm breath caressing your ear.

 

“No. The last time, you left my ass sore with your rough hands slapping my cheeks. And besides, I don’t think our agreement of having only pleasure… is working.”, remembering your last encounter with Ivar was only making it difficult to deny him. Your resolution almost fading when his indigo eyes were looking at you.

 

Surprised by what you said, he started licking his lower lip, deep in his thoughts. You wondered what he was thinking, and if it was something it would please you to know. Why he had to do this? You wanted to jump on his lap, licking his neck and burying yourself in his shaft.

 

“Not working?”, Ivar raised his eyebrows, “the last time I took you, I remember you finished the night breathing heavily, sweating and smiling. It didn’t look like ‘not working’ for me.”, Ivar winked, what added to your confusion.

 

“I…it’s not like that…”, you tried to explain. But how could you make Ivar understand you didn’t want to give yourself to him fearing how hollow you always felt in the morning. When you two would follow your routines, he could take other women. What you preferred not to think about. You had never seen Ivar with others, yet he was cunning. Maybe discreet enough for you not to find out. 

 

Was it better enjoying those little moments, than not having him at all?

 

You could take others to warm your bed too. Not that you had ever tried it. Every time a man approached, whispering how he would hold your hands above your head, pounding into your wet tightness, making you look in his eyes while you felt stretched by his huge cock, it was not his face you imagined looking back at you. You would always picture deep blue orbits threatening to swallow your soul. It was his wicked smile you would think. That smirk of a man that felt proud of himself to send you over the edge. It was not the stranger’s grunts that you wanted to hear when your walls gripped his manhood. You realized you were in love with Ivar. You were condemned. The only solution was to stay away from him, in hope those feelings would disappear. You were stupid to think Ivar would allow it. He had the upper hand. You would walk away only when he got tired of you. This possibility sending shivers down your spine. Imagining Ivar touching another woman the way he touches you was like an open wound.

 

There you were again. The morning light covering your bodies. Ivar's warm skin pressed against you. His fingers caressing your face and traveling down your body. Awakening memories the mead was meant to erase.

 

“I-Ivar…”, you moaned when his fingers started caressing your nipples.

 

“What min älskade? Do you need me to show you how I took care of you last night?, Ivar’s hands going to your lower back, grabbing your hips to pull you closer, your surprised gasp making him chuckle.

 

“It’s a mis-mistake, Ivar.”, when his finger found your entrance, you moaned loudly, “P-please…stop it!”, inhaling a ragged breath and offering him a soft moan as he stroked your silky flesh.

 

Dragging your moisture through your folds, Ivar started penetrating you gently with his point finger, while his thumb was fondling the protuberance that you used to touch when he was away. His hot breath against your skin was making your head spin like you were still drinking all the mead available in the hall. Your left hand started touching your neglected nipples, with your free hand you held onto the furs.

 

“Två fingrar?”, Ivar’s smile was wicked when he asked if you were ready to be stretched by a second finger.

 

Ivar had his answer when he added a second finger and you cried out, “Easy, easy.”, he kissed your nose in a delicate manner. You were always impressed by the morning tenderness present in the few moments you shared with him before he left. It was like he was apologizing for the urgency and roughness from the nights. Two different men inside of him. And you would always crave for both. The light and the darkness.

 

The movement of his thumb against your clit was sending you over the edge, you couldn’t hold any longer, your hips started moving against his palm, your eyes shut. You were breathing through your gaping mouth when you heard, “Girig”, you opened your eyes to face your lover, “Farðu í rassgat!”, you cursed and regretted immediately. His fingers stopped moving between your shaking tights. Ivar lowered his head to your sensitive nipple, biting it and making you jerk.

 

“Kysser du din mamma med den munnen?”, Ivar tormented you, “Jag kommer att slå din röv att låta rött”, he threatened you with a devious smirk.

 

Ivar resumed the ministration of his fingers. You were sweating and breathing heavily. You felt a hot breath on your neck, then the tender brush of lips. Burning as they made contact with your neck. The kisses were alternated with licks and bites and became harder and possessive, as if Ivar couldn’t wait for you to conquer the highest of pleasure. As much as you hated being submissive to his demanding nature, you opened your mouth to scream, but any sound that could came was muffled by his hungry mouth. Small tears streaming down your face were licked by his tongue. You opened your eyes in time to see Ivar closing his lips around his fingers, so delighted to taste you in his tongue that his eyes were shut. When he looks at you, you know his intentions.

 

He places himself between your legs, holding his weight with his arms around your head. His gaze is so intense that you can’t look away when he guides his erection to your entrance, making you take his thick shaft inch by inch. It’s stretching you deliciously. Ivar pulls back with a sigh, only to slam back inside of you.

 

Ivar keeps working his hips until your nails are digging into the skin of his back. Your fingertips buried deep into his sweaty skin, trying to use your fingernails to bring him closer. He keeps doing this until your soft moans and nails scratching drive him crazy. His mouth possesses yours with as much fury as his thrusts. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours and his grunts in your ear are enough to make you lose your senses once more. Throwing your hand back on the furs, you’re shaking and trying to find your salvation by enlacing your trembling legs around his hips, your arms wrapped around his neck in an almost suffocating embrace, forcing him to bury his face in your hair. He doesn’t move for a while and you think he is recovering from his climax too. When he raises his head from the crook of your neck looking at you with those pierce blue eyes, you know he is not over with you yet. Ivar cups your face, his thumb caressing your swollen lips. He moves between your thighs again, you’re still sensitive from your orgasm, but it feels so right to give yourself to him. You bear the discomfort just for a few moments. He thrusts all the way in, spilling his seed.

 

Ivar rolls to his side, embracing and pulling you closer. Your head is resting on his muscular chest, Ivar’s fingers caressing your face. The passionate kisses all over your face are surprising. He would leave to handle his responsibilities after taking you by the morning. Yet, here you are, being attacked by his kisses.

 

“Mitt hjärta…”, Ivar requests your attention with sweet words he had never used to address you. The pause in his speech making you shudder. You had never seen Ivar so vulnerable or uncomfortable.

 

“Tell me, Ivar.”, you close your eyes for a moment, waiting for him to say he doesn’t want to see you again. That he had found another woman fit to be his queen.

 

“I want you until Valhalla calls me!”, Ivar confesses.

 

You start sobbing against his chest, he holds you in his arms with a worried expression.

 

“Haltu mér í örmum þínum.”, you are pleading.

 

“Always. Be my wife, bear my children. Help me to be the most famous of Odin’s kin.”, Ivar looks directly into your soul.

 

“Do you really want to marry me?”, you are still suspicious.

 

“Nothing would make me happier.”

**Author's Note:**

> “Tack för igår!” =Thanks for yesterday!
> 
> “Min älskade” = My beloved recememt
> 
> “Två fingrar?” = Two fingers?
> 
> “Girig” = Greedy
> 
> “Farðu í rassgat!” = Go into an arsehole/asshole!
> 
> “Mitt hjärta” = My heart
> 
> “Haltu mér í örmum þínum!” = Hold me in your arms!
> 
> “Kysser du din mamma med den munnen? = Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?
> 
> “Jag kommer att slå din röv att låta rött” = I will beat your ass to make red


End file.
